


Slippery Hell

by WildfireKhaleesi



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Reader Insert, Smut, Stranger Things 2, fan fic, hopper smut, stranger things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 21:05:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13016121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildfireKhaleesi/pseuds/WildfireKhaleesi
Summary: Summary: scrunchinn asked; Hopper trying to fit in the bathtub with his sweetheart. Omg, the idea of that makes me smile! He gets frustrated that it doesn’t work because of his size, and tries to just call it all off- until his little lady just brings them to their room to reassure his intentions didn’t go unnoticed. GAHH!





	Slippery Hell

The last thing you’d expected to be doing on your day off was spending it alone. You’d hoped endlessly that Hop would get the day off as well, that you’d get to have some quality time with Jim to yourself.

You were pretty sad when he’d told you that a case had come up last minute, requiring his immediate attention, but you shrugged it off and set your resolve on cleaning up your house.

You’d also hoped that your relationship might soon cross the threshold of the whole moving in together fiasco. When Hop had asked you’d figured it’d just be a hop and a skip before you were ready to move across town and into his small cabin house, but that hope also came up fruitless when you realized that you’d much rather sell your house before you moved so that you weren’t making payments for a home not lived in.

Hop understood of course, and that frustrated you a bit because in your year and a half relationship you’d hardly ever argued. Maybe you were being dramatic, but hell, the few times you’d seen Hopper mad had settled hot and wanting in your belly.

You vacuumed your living room and huffed loudly, proud that you’d managed to finish your spring cleaning earlier than expected. That meant you’d get to take a long bath, maybe even let your fingers wander down your body while you thought of your older boyfriend and all of the things he could make you feel.

You wrapped up your vacuum cord and was just about to head into your master bathroom when your telephone rang. You’d debated not answering the damn thing and letting your impatient libido take control, but Hop was really the only person who ever called you anymore since your mom had left on vacation with her boyfriend.

Begrudgingly you answered the phone, your voice perhaps a little too terse.

“Well hi to you too.” Hopper chuckled, and you rolled your eyes at his voice, thankful he didn’t see because he hated when you did that.

“I was just about to head upstairs and take a bath.” You groaned, “aren’t you supposed to be workin’?”

“Oh really? No, I got off early so I was actually just now headin’ over, but if you don’t want to see me I guess I could-”

“Get your ass over here.” You interrupted, smiling and hanging up the phone.

You locked your front door, knowing that Hopper had the set of spare keys, and practically ran up the stairs, kicking off clothing and leaving them unperturbed throughout your bedroom.

Thankfully your small bath filled fast, lavender smelling bubbles forming as you poured the bubble bath gel inside the porcelain tub.

You toe’d at the water before fully stepping in, moaning at the warmth that greeted you immediately, bubbles already sticking to your calves.

Lowering yourself into the sudsy water felt absolutely blissful, all of your earlier stress from cleaning and worrying about your move and your relationship melting away with each sinking inch. You kept your hair in its bun, resting the back of your head and dip of your neck against one edge of the white enamel.

Closing your eyes you imagined Hopper’s fingers dancing across your belly, following the groove of your hip bones down to your aching labia, running sure and smooth lines along your eager opening; you mimicked his imaginary actions and moaned out lightly, lips pursing and brows furrowing in pleasure. The things Hopper could do to you, whether it be physically, verbally, mentally, or emotionally, were absolutely sinful.

You were pulled from your lustful reverie when you heard the telltale sound of Hop’s engine pulling into your driveway. Excitement bursts throughout your chest, and although you want to meet him at the door immediately, you decide that perhaps staying in the tub and waiting for him would be the sexier approach.

Your nipples are peeking out of the water, hard and sensitive to the air around you while you follow the sounds of Hop’s boots up the staircase and throughout the hallway leading to your bedroom.

“Y/N? Where are you?” His gruff voice shoots through you like electricity.

“In the bath!” You holler back, picking up your large bath sponge and softly rubbing your chest and underarms clean with the soapy water.

Doing your best not to falter or stop your actions completely, you don’t look at Hop when he enters the bathroom, body prickling with goosebumps when you hear his shaky intake of breath. You were happy that you affected him in the exact same way he did you.

“How was work,” you ask him and you’re grateful that your voice didn’t waver in anticipation.

“Alright,” he answers, “would have prefered to spend my day with you though.”

Deceivingly, your eyes flicker to his and you blush at the lust in his eyes and the tent in his pants.

“Well you’re here now,” you grin.

Hopper only nods in response, shaking off his jacket, shoes and socks. His hands make very quick work of his buttoned shirt, and you admire his broad shoulders and chest, and the way his chest hair chases his bellybutton to his pubic bone. The man is pretty much dripping sexual appeal, and he’s all yours.

He unloops his belt and tosses it out of the bathroom, presumably on your bed, his pants and boxers following.

Your lips part and your breathing hitches because Hopper is standing directly in front of you, looking at you with nothing but lust and a need to fuck himself into you until he’s spent; but the one thing that really gets to you is that he’s wearing nothing but his hat, and his hat might be your favorite accessory.

He motions for you to scoot forward, to which you comply immediately, admiring the muscles in his arms as he removes his hat and steps behind you.

The water parts on either sides of his calves, accommodating his larger stature, but the light clunk against porcelain is what grabs your attention.

You crane your neck and look at Hopper’s ridiculously tall and lanky figure trying to fit in your small tub and giggle.

“It’s not funny,” he whines, his butt bumping against the side of the tub again as he tries to readjust, he’s not even fully sitting yet! You giggle more, and watch his face furrow in frustration because he’s trying so hard to slide in behind you. “This is some sort of slippery hell.” He growls.

You howl with laughter, tears escaping your eyes as he stumbles out of the tub.

“Oh Hop!” You shout between fits of laughter, “come back, babe!”

He grumbles out something incoherent and exits the bathroom, leaving you still giggling in the tub as the water turns cool.

Deciding against shampooing and conditioning your hair, you stand up and step out of the bath, pulling the drain plug and exiting the fogged up room. Your boyfriend is sprawled across your bed, pouting, and your heart warms.

“It’s a small tub,” you shrug and explain, “I doubt it could fit any two people who aren’t children.”

He smirks a little, looking towards you and ogling at your wet nakedness.

“Seems to me,” you start suggestively, “that my bed would fit the two of us just fine.”

Hopper’s eyes glint in the sunlight that enters through your bedroom window and it takes you a minute to remember how to breathe.

“I love you.” He smiles, pulling your naked figure against his own muscular one.

His lips are eager on your own, teeth catching your bottom lip and tugging. He’s an expert at getting you undone. You’re pretty sure it was his major in college.

You smile slyly against his teeth, gripping the shoulders of his that you love so desperately and pulling the large bulk of man closer to you. He must not have toweled off either because his lower body is slippery against your own, and you’re ever grateful for it, thrusting lightly against his thigh for friction as your tongue slides into his mouth.

Making out when you’re in your early 30’s might seem amateur to most people, but Hopper made it so exciting for you, running his sure hands along your body. You moan against his mouth, sound reverberating against your tongue as his fingers find one of your nipples and tug lightly at first, then twisting and tugging again, this time harder.

“That’s right, baby girl…” he cooes, mouth leaving yours as you arch against his touch. He nibbles at your collarbone, tongue tracing down towards your sensitive and stimulated nipple and swirling around the hardened bud.

You hiss harshly as he catches the tender mound between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth and massaging it with his expert tongue.

“Fuck, Hop,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

He repeats the action with your other breast, acutely aware of each time you buck against him, your slick mixing with the water that’s not yet dried on his thighs.

You’re surprised when he lifts you up and tosses you on the bed beside him, climbing up the length of your body and nudging the head of his cock into your entrance.

“Please, Hop,” you whimper, pulling his face down into another kiss.

He feels himself fill you up in one thrust, your walls contracting around him and stilling, not letting him move momentarily, and he’s appreciative for it because if he moves now he might come instantaneously.

“You feel great, baby girl.” He grunts against your swollen lips and you lift your hips and make a slight swirling motion, teasing him.

He tsks at you and shakes his head, and you giggle back, repeating the movement.

His lips are back on you and he relishes in the taste of you, a mix of sweet and hot.

He can actually feel his cock swell at the taste, and knows that if he doesn’t move soon and steady his resolve he’s done for.

You nod against him, gripping his shoulders tighter, and thank god he moves. The slow drag of his cock against your walls sending a shiver through you.

He slams himself into you, and you cry out ridiculously loud against his mouth, nails raking into his shoulder blade.

His eyes find yours and seem to ask if it’s okay for him to continue, and you answer with another hot and wanting kiss.

Slapping into where your ass meets your thighs, he snaps his hips again, spiraling into the pleasure and this time not stopping his thrusts.

The noises you make are absolute music to his ears after the day he’s had, and he’s thankful he got to leave work early.

Sharply your hips meet his own after what seems like endless thrusts, and his orgasm is ebbing, growing more present with each drive of his hips.

He can tell you’re close too by the way that you’re crying out his name, like it’s the only word you know.

His pubic bone is rubbing agonizingly across your clit in tune with his movements, and you cry out as you come, clenching hard around his twitching cock.

His thrusts are more broken and panicked, and then he’s coming with you, filling your insides with his warm seed.

“Fuck,” he whispers, collapsing next to you, sweaty and spent.

“You could say that again,” you agree, turning and resting your face on his chest.

“I’m thinking you might need to move in this weekend.”

“I’m thinking you’re right. Don’t you have a bigger tub?”

He laughs heartily at your joke, but answers nonetheless, “yes, I do.”


End file.
